


Avant Garde

by skidmo



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidmo/pseuds/skidmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We never just have sex anymore.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avant Garde

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by _that_ conversation in Reset.

“We never just have sex anymore.”

Jack looks up from what he had been doing. (Which, to be honest, was mostly just pretending to work while he waited for Ianto to finish in the tourist office.) “Pardon?”

“We never just have sex anymore.”

Jack leans back in his chair and regards Ianto carefully. “We quite often just have sex. In fact, just last week you were complaining that we never go out anymore. That’s what tonight was about, remember?”

Ianto crosses Jack’s office to perch on his desk. “I don’t mean it that way. I mean we never just…have sex.”

“You’ve lost me.” Jack’s eyebrows knit in confusion.

“It’s always toys or roleplay or…bondage or something. We never just have sex.”

Sliding a hand up Ianto’s leg to his knee, Jack thinks about this. “That can’t be true. Can it? Monday. Monday we just had sex.”

Ianto opens a book Jack hadn’t realized he was carrying. “’Monday, 25 February,’” he reads. “’Jack used belt to strap me to ladder in quarters. Stripped me and left me hard for half an hour without touching me.’”

Jack smiles, remembering how Ianto had begged so prettily. “Oh, yeah. That was fun.”

Ianto just glares at him.

“Tuesday then. It must have been Tuesday.”

Flipping a page, Ianto starts again. “’Tuesday, 26 February. Played Naughty Schoolboy and Headmaster. Had to dig up public school uniform from archives. ‘“

“Maybe it was the week before.” That had been a good night too, but Jack is fairly certain Ianto wouldn’t appreciate him mentioning it.

“’Monday, 18 February. Jack swears was sex toy from Pluforium 9. Natives must be much better endowed than humans. … Tuesday, 19 February. Received package from Martha. Never knew red hat could have such an effect on Jack. … Wednesday, 20 February. Leather. Have nothing else to say. … Thursday, 21 February. Weevil hunt. Up all night, no sex. Perhaps a good thing. … Friday, 22 February. Jack getting too fond of sex in front of Weevils. Creeps me out more than a little.’” He glances up at Jack. “Shall I go on?”

“But it was good, right? I mean…you’ve never complained.”

Ianto sighs and sets his diary on Jack’s desk, sliding into his lap. “Yes, it’s good, but that’s not the point.”

“There’s a point to sex? I thought the point of sex was…sex.” It’s not fair of Ianto, really, to try and have important conversations while sitting in Jack’s lap.

“The point is...” He sighs again. “The point is, I don’t need all that. Yes, the sex is good. Fantastic even. But sometimes,” he leans forward and rests his forehead against Jack’s, kissing him softly, “sometimes I just want _you_. No toys, no games, just you.”

Jack grins slowly, running a hand up Ianto’s arm. “Just me?”

“Just you,” Ianto whispers.

“Up,” Jack says, pushing Ianto off his lap. He takes Ianto’s hand and leads him to the manhole, climbing down the stairs. When he gets to the bottom, he calls out, “Coming?”

When Ianto gets to the bottom of the ladder, Jack slides his arms around Ianto’s waist, kissing his neck. Turning in his arms, Ianto kisses him, slow and deep. “What are you up to, Jack?” he murmurs, arms around Jack’s neck.

“For once, nothing.”

Jack takes his time stripping off Ianto’s suit, laying it out carefully so that it doesn’t wrinkle. He leads Ianto over to the bed and gently lowers him onto it, kissing his forehead before stepping back and sliding his braces off. He undresses himself as slowly as he had Ianto and crawls into bed next to him.

“Just me, Ianto,” he whispers, brushing Ianto’s hair away from his forehead.

Ianto smiles at him, a truly happy smile, and Jack never gets tired of seeing that look on Ianto’s face. He kisses Ianto gently, slowly, tasting him, teasing him, touching him. His hands roam over Ianto’s chest and sides, and he feels Ianto’s fingers in his hair, Ianto’s hand down his back.

Ianto was right. It’s been too long since it was just them.

He takes things as slowly as he can, relearning Ianto’s body, soft kisses and slow touches with Ianto responding in kind as they drag each other up to the edge and back down again time and time again.

And when they come, it’s long and intense, and Ianto whispers, “I love you,” into his skin, and it frightens Jack as much as it always does, more even, because tonight he’s tempted to say it back.

He holds Ianto as he falls asleep, rubbing slow circles on his back until Ianto’s body relaxes completely and his breathing deepens and evens out. Then he slips quietly from the bed and pulls his trousers back on, making his way up the ladder to his office. He checks the rift monitor quickly, making sure there’s nothing to worry about. He does this every night—leaves Ianto either in his bed or in Ianto’s flat. It’s necessary, if difficult.

He updates his log and swivels his chair around, intending to head back to his bed, back to Ianto, when something catches his eye.

Ianto’s diary is still sitting on his desk. He knows he shouldn’t read it, but he’s curious how detailed Ianto’s descriptions of their encounters are.

He flips to the entry for February 18th and reads:

 _Jack swears was sex toy from Pluforium 9. Natives must be much better endowed than humans. Good thing have had Jack to prepare me. Still think tape measure lied._

Jack smirks and moves to the next entry.

 _Received package from Martha. Never knew red hat could have such an effect on Jack. Will have to keep it for further use. Will consider asking Martha for entire uniform._

The entry for February 20th proves to be no more than what Ianto had read, but the next one makes Jack pause.

 _Weevil hunt. Up all night, no sex. Perhaps a good thing. Missed waking up in Jack’s arms. Find it difficult to sleep alone anymore._

He almost stops there, feeling as though he’s finally gone too far. But Ianto never says these things to him, and the temptation proves to be too much. Jack’s never had much for self-control.

 _Jack getting too fond of sex in front of Weevils. Creeps me out more than a little. Suspect Jack noticed this as was very gentle with me afterwards. Wish he wouldn’t be. Only makes me want him more._

Jack frowns and flips forward to Monday’s entry.

 _Jack used belt to strap me to ladder in quarters. Stripped me and left me hard for half an hour without touching me. Bastard. Still, brought me off twice, so not entirely unpleasant. Crept off when he thought I was sleeping again. Hate when he does that. Hate myself for missing him when he’s gone._

He lets out a sigh, telling himself he should stop but turning one more page.

 _Played Naughty Schoolboy and Headmaster. Had to dig up public school uniform from archives. Jack clung to me after, completely worn out. Didn’t leave the bed at all. Can’t remember last time was so content. Said that I love him again. Suspect this time it may be true._

Shutting the book and setting it back on his desk, Jack climbs back down the ladder. He stands for a moment just watching Ianto in the light from the manhole, wondering if he’s really asleep this time. He strips off his trousers again and crawls back into bed, wrapping himself around Ianto as much as he can.

He brushes his lips over the back of Ianto’s neck, not sure if he hopes that Ianto is awake or that he is asleep when he whispers, “I love you too.”

 

 _fin_


End file.
